


It's So Kind of You to Want to Visit Me in My Loneliness

by Misslethwaite



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, foxxay - Freeform, goode-day, it's so fluffy I'm gonna die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misslethwaite/pseuds/Misslethwaite
Summary: '...And killing things is not so hard, It's hurting that's the hardest part, And when the wizard gets to me, I'm asking for a smaller heart...' - My first ever Foxxay one-shot, written way back in 2013. If you could ask the wonderful wizard for anything, what would you ask him for?





	It's So Kind of You to Want to Visit Me in My Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever foxxay fanfic, written way back in 2013 created solely for the purpose of making myself feel better, hence the apology for the overwhelmingly sickening amount of fluff you are about to devour.  
> My writing has changed a lot since then, but for the benefit of this story I have left it unedited it it's original form.  
> Title taken from the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. Story also inspired by Trout Heart Replica by Amanda Palmer.  
> Originally posted to my tumblr, slowly shifting my works over to an archive here.

Cordelia gave a sigh and rubbed at her eyes with her hand. Truth be told there wasn’t much paperwork nevertheless it felt like she had been staring at the same sheet of paper for hours. She was still getting used to the restored sight Myrtle had provided and she could feel the strain behind her eyelids. It was either fall asleep at her desk or take a coffee break, she decided, well aware that if she were to stay nothing would get done. The blonde headmistress pushed back the chair and headed for the kitchen to serve herself a good dose of caffeine. As she wandered past one of the rooms down the corridor, she heard the faint sound of music and a small smile pulled at her lips.  
She had often considered the academy far too quiet, with so few students in residence, but since Misty Day had settled in not too long before it seemed there was always a melody in the air if one listened. The melody that played seemed familiar and it didn’t take long for Cordelia to realise and remember what it was. She couldn’t have worked for too long then, seeing as she had left the tape in Misty’s capable hands to watch for herself. Curious, Cordelia pushed the door open gently and peeked her head inside, but the Cajun girl was nowhere to be found; the spread out and somewhat threadbare blanket splayed on the floor and half eaten bagel in front of the television set were the only signs she had been there at all. Cordelia pulled the door to a close once again and carried on to the kitchen area. It was as she leaned against the table top and stirred the steaming mug that she caught sight of blonde curls on the veranda outside. There was only one person who that could have been, even through the glass. Cordelia drew the warm cup into her hand and stepped outside where Misty sat cross legged, one of her many shawls wrapped around her shoulders. It was colder than she expected.

"What are you doing out here?" Cordelia asked as she stood by her and looked down to where the younger woman sat. "I thought you were watching the movie."

"It finished," Misty replied but her gaze remained toward the expanse of garden.

"Oh." Cordelia cringed inwardly at her stupidity, of course it had finished she had seen the credits rolling on the tape back in the room. She’d been so curious as to Misty’s whereabouts that she hadn’t given any thought to turn it off. "What did you think?" she asked in a bid to stir conversation with the necromancer at her feet.

"Was ok I s’pose." There was a rather noncommittal shrug from the Cajun before she added almost as an afterthought, "don’t think those witches deserved to die though…" The headmistress could barely suppress a smile as she set her coffee cup on the floor and sat herself down beside the younger woman.

"It’s a movie for children, Misty, you can’t always expect them to distinguish right from wrong without a little help," Cordelia admonished, although she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit strange for trying to justify such a film to a recipient clearly older than its initial target audience.

"Yeah, I guess. Don’t help us any though does it, Miss Cordelia?" This time Misty’s sea-glass glance fell in the headmistress’ direction as the blonde laughed a little at her seriousness.

"No, I suppose not," Cordelia agreed. Their eyes met for a moment longer and although she would not admit it aloud, Cordelia’s gratitude for her restored vision swelled just a little more in her chest at the sight that stared back at her. A thought struck her out of the blue, a minor curiosity on her part, a desire to know this woman who sat before her a little more. She could say with some confidence that she knew her other students well enough, but this woman still seemed to have some mystery. She longed to know what lurked beneath those blue pools. For every calm sea, there are storms. "What would you ask him for?" The question was unexpected and it showed on Misty’s face whose brow furrowed with momentary confusion.

"What?"

"The Wizard," Cordelia clarified. Misty drew the edges of her shawl into her hands, bunched it into her fists then let it fall again as she spoke.  


"He was a sham, there ain’t no way he could really grant wishes ‘less he lied an’ where’s the good in that?" Her features contorted into an expression of deep – if the depth of her frown was anything to go by – disapproval.

"Oh, I know," Cordelia knew what she said was true, and that the woman had a serious point, but she couldn’t restrain her chuckle at Misty’s countenance that almost border lined on a caricature. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the Cajun stuck her tongue out after. She observed as Misty bit her lower lip in thought before her eyes caught Cordelia’s again.

"What about you, Miss Cordelia? What would you ask the wizard for?" Misty asked. If it was at all possible to describe the shine in her eyes as the spark of curiosity, that certainly seemed to be an appropriate definition, other than alluring. Cordelia drew her gaze away, as difficult as it was to do so, and looked at the sky beyond the veranda as she deliberated. Anything in the world, if she could ask for anything, what would it be? For this moment, so calm and peaceful between the two of them, to last? To forget about her mother, and Witch hunters and Supremes, oh my, and have a chance to live a life without so much godamned fear all the time? To have someone who understood, someone who saw just how lonely it could be and then make it be-…No, she couldn’t tell Misty that, Cordelia scolded herself and was rather glad that Misty had not shown any prowess in reading another’s thoughts. Yet.  
"Delia?" That shook her from her spiralled thoughts with an uncontrollable shudder. Her mother called her that. She knew from the gentle twang that it was not the blonde she feared that beckoned her back, but the association remained. A flash of memory; stood outside on a veranda on a rainy day, waiting and watching as the clouds rolled overhead, a defiant peak of sunlight that tried to slip its way through the cracks, her mother calling her back inside, complaining that she shouldn’t be out in the rain, the fancy hotel would have a fit if she traipsed it all over the carpet and she didn’t have the money to buy any new clothes for ones that were ruined. Lies. But little Delia wanted to see the sliver of sunlight dance…

"A rainbow," Cordelia said simply. Yes, that’s what she would want. Something so pretty, a vision not meant to last but spectacular.

"So you could fly over it?" Misty asked.

"Excuse me?" It was Cordelia’s turn to be momentarily bewildered and she regarded Misty with a raised brow.

"Like the song," she explained as though it were the most obvious logic in the world. Which it probably was, if Cordelia hadn’t been so absorbed in her thoughts beforehand. Misty indicated several small birds that circled overhead. Cordelia’s mismatched eyes followed the direction, from where the woman’s shawl slipped down revealing the pale flesh of her upper arm, past several bands at her wrist, down to her hand and where her ringed finger pointed to the birds beyond in the sky. "You shouldn’t have to feel stuck here forever, you should be able to fly away, like they do."

"That wouldn’t be very responsible of me," Cordelia teased with a shake of her head. She reached for her coffee cup and added with a playful smirk, "leaving you girls to run wild, the academy wouldn’t stand a chance." The smirk faltered grimly at the taste of her coffee; she hadn’t expected it to cool so soon, or perhaps more time had passed than she thought.

"And you don’t have the right broom," Misty added in a nonchalant, yet rather matter-of-fact tone.

"I could have sworn I had one somewhere," Cordelia couldn’t help but play along. "Didn’t I leave one in the greenhouse?" She queried. Immediately Misty’s expression flushed scarlet; the demeanour of a guilty child.

"It got kinda broke…"

"I’m not even going to ask." She raised a hand from the coffee cup in a mock gesture of surrender. "I suppose I could settle for the vacuum…" Cordelia added with a small smile. The scarlet flush faded from Misty’s cheeks; her brow furrowed for a moment before she fully understood the context of what Cordelia had said and her own small smile reflected back at the blonde. Cordelia took another sip of the coffee, before she decided it was not worth the grim taste and put it aside. With the small space no longer occupied between them, the thought of scooting closer crossed her mind, but would Misty mind? The woman seemed so comfortable in her own element, albeit perhaps a little cold where the material of her shawl didn’t quite conceal the raised goose bumps of her arm; Cordelia didn’t want to intrude where she was not wanted. Spirits only knew her mother did such a thing often enough, and if there was one thing Cordelia did not want to become, it was Fiona’s carbon copy. She strove so hard to be better than that. A better teacher, a better guide than any mother or Wizard, a better friend to souls like the one sat so still beside her no matter how few and far between. "But if the Wizard could grant you anything, what would you ask him for?" she asked; curiosity reignited itself like a small warm spark in the pit of her stomach. Although was it truly curiosity, or was the warmth something else? Misty bit her lip, bunched the fringes of shawl into a haphazard bundle wrapped in her hands and lap as she considered the possibilities with a faraway look in her eyes. Before Cordelia could push her for an answer, before she could sail into the hidden depths and find what lurked beneath the watery gaze that allured her so the sound of something hitting the grass with a soft thump reached their ears from their seated position on the veranda. Misty had clambered to her feet, flitted across the grass barefoot in a blur of chiffon, skirt and hair. Concerned, Cordelia followed to where the young woman had knelt down and retrieved whatever had fallen to the floor. Cupped in her gentle hands lay a small bird, unmoving. The sadness surprised Cordelia; the gaze so soft and serene turned to a shining grey of storms.

"A smaller heart," Misty confessed quietly. "That’s what I‘d ask him for." Her thumb stroked the dark velvet wing with a slow caress. Her shoulders gave a shrug as for the first time that Cordelia could recall, the Cajun avoided her gaze. The storm had been brought to the shore, and suddenly the headmistress was unsure, doubtful of her confidence in weathering it for the both of them. "I’ve seen so many things die, so much pain an’ I still come back…" Cordelia said nothing but placed a gentle hand upon Misty’s forearm, squeezed a little as a reminder that she was there, that she was listening. "But it never changes. Nothin’s ever changed. There’s always hurt, there’s always so much sadness for every living thing and people just don’t understand. Sometimes they grow apart, sometimes they grow old, but they die all the same with things they forgot to say, mistakes an’ regrets. I don’t understand the misery, why people wanna make others suffer instead of helpin’ themselves." Misty gave a small despondent sigh that pulled painfully at the muscle within Cordelia’s chest, her eyes still on the bird in her hands. "Every time I come back, it gets a lil’ harder, to understand why. Bein’ dead’s pretty easy, it’s hurtin’ that’s the hardest part. Hurts my heart a lil’ harder each time, y’see? An’ when my heart hurts like it does, feels like there ain’t no swamp mud or incantation that can take it away."

"Oh Misty…" Cordelia drew her arm around her, drew her close, mindful of the bird in her embrace. "Even with visions I can’t imagine how it must have felt for you to come back from the dead. My own mother taught me of misery pretty early on and although it may be different, I do have an idea of how you feel." Again she gave a sympathetic squeeze to the younger witch’s shoulder. "And you are right, there is no ready witch’s cure to ease the pain, but there is a remedy of sorts."

"Really, what’s that?" She half expected Misty’s eyes to return to her, and was a little disappointed when she seemed still engrossed in the life, or rather absence of it, in her clasped hands.

"Knowledge," Cordelia continued. This time the surprise did show a little sooner on Misty’s face with a raised brow.

"You mean like something in one of your big ol’ dusty textbooks?" Misty asked, much to Cordelia’s amusement. She shook her head lightly. Somehow it wasn’t difficult to imagine just what would happen to her library of books if the younger witch got the wrong idea.

"No, Misty, I’m afraid it’s not something you can learn just from a dusty textbook," she tried to explain.

"Then what kind of knowledge are you talkin’ about?" Her head tilted back just enough in a bid to see the headmistress as she spoke, as she implored. Cordelia was distantly aware of the curtain of unruly blonde curls that drifted over the hand that rested on Misty’s shoulder. "Is it something you can teach me, Miss Cordelia?"

"It’s something you can only really teach yourself," She heard herself confess. She wondered how long she should wait before she told Misty to drop the ‘Miss’, how long it would be before she wasn’t just a teacher. Misty would always be far more than a student.

"Ok, but what is it?" Misty seemed both tentative and imploring, if that were possible as she sought the answers that Cordelia had, who merely smiled.

"It is the knowledge that you’re not alone. Not in this life, or any other." She wasn’t sure when she had begun to stroke her hand through the younger blonde’s hair, but Misty didn’t pull away from the action so she let herself continue absentmindedly, a comfort for them both. "It won’t make pain go away, sadness is part of what makes you, you. But it is a little easier, knowing there is someone with which you can share it. Life isn’t easy, but after all you have suffered and all that you have witnessed, you are still here." Careful of the bird which Misty balanced in one hand – an easy feat with its small size - Cordelia took her other hand in her own and placed their joined palms to where Misty could feel the steady thump of her own pulse; alive. "Your heart hurts, but it’s still beating. As is mine. People like us…It’s easy to forget when we care so much for others to take care of ourselves." It was a quiet affirmation, but neither of them needed more. "You don’t need some sham of a wizard to shrink your heart, Misty, it’s exactly as it needs to be, no more, no less. You just need someone with which to share it." Cordelia let go of her hand and placed it over the bird that Misty held in her other palm. A few moments passed, barely a breath between the two of them, before the sound of a tweet shattered the silence. The bird stumbled to its tiny feet in bewilderment, before it stretched its wings, flapped them a few times experimentally much to the witches combined happiness.

"Some witch with which to share it," Misty amended quietly with a small smile as the bird took off into the sky above them. Cordelia looked back at Misty, caught off guard by what she thought she heard.

"Sorry?" She asked, but Misty was already pointing into the sky once more.

"Look, Delia, I guess you got what you wanted after all," she said and a grin lit up her countenance as a thin, but visible rainbow slithered into view. For Cordelia however, all the colours up there couldn’t have held a candle to the stained glass gaze of the young woman before her, the way they reflected in the shafts of sunlight, in moments of unguarded happiness.

"I guess I did... I guess I did," Cordelia agreed as she cuddled the younger witch close to her once more, and the arm that suddenly encompassed her waist squeezed back.


End file.
